


Teeth

by providentialeyes



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Age Difference, Awkward Conversations, Come Eating, Dirty Talk, Explicit Consent, First Time, Hand Jobs, Multiple Orgasms, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Other, Power Imbalance, Pre-Canon, Sexual Experimentation, Tender Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Virgin John, like Virgin(tm) john, non-binary john marston, sexual teaching??, this is a mess, uhhh, uhhhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:41:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22136467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/providentialeyes/pseuds/providentialeyes
Summary: "John?""Will you show me?" John whispers.Arthur studies the younger for a moment then turns to tie the canvas flaps shut.He moves to the corner and unloads his belts and weapons before coming to sit on the cot next to John."What do you wanna learn?" Arthur murmurs.
Relationships: John Marston/Arthur Morgan, background abi/john
Comments: 7
Kudos: 112





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> woo boy  
> mound, slit, hole, clit are used, there will be uh, stuff involving John's chest later in this jsyk
> 
> john doesn't touch himself due to dysphoria but that isn't explicitly stated or expanded upon

"Have you ever…" John trails off, hesitance cracking his voice.

"Hm?" Arthur looks up from his journal, perched on top of his cot.

"Nothin'," John says quickly, "Nevermind."

He goes back to sharpening the heads of his arrows, trying to fight the furious reddening of his cheeks. 

“John, you oughta learn to commit to your ideas or stay silent,” Arthur says, feigning annoyance, because he knows it’ll get a rise out of John and maybe get the younger to finish the question.

He hears John’s huff and bites down on a smirk as he turns to a new page. 

“Have you ever made a lady come, with your mouth?” John asks, words rushed and stumbling. 

Arthur blinks at the younger silently for a few seconds, feeling his face growing hot. 

“What?”

“Do I really have to repeat that?” John whispers. 

“Uh… Yeah,” Arthur mutters, bringing a hand up to rub awkwardly at the side of his neck, “Not that you need to repeat yourself, but that I’ve… Done that.”

“Oh.”

“Why… What brought that question up?” Arthur asks slowly, thumb worrying over the rough edges of the paper. 

“Heard some of the fellas talkin’ about it,” John mutters and exchanges arrows for a duller one, bringing his legs closer and hunching over his work. 

“Alrighty,” Arthur sucks on his teeth and studies John, “Any other questions?”

“Do you think Abi’d like that?”

“Abigail?” Arthur asks, brows shooting up in surprise, “You been with her?”

“Well… No, not yet.”

“Are you… Plannin’ on propositionin’ her?” 

“Maybe.”

“And you wanna do that to her?”

 _“Maybe,”_ John stresses, “Rather not make a fool of myself, if I can’t get her off.”

“Gonna take a guess no one’s done that for you, neither,” Arthur says gently, tearing small pieces of the paper away with his thumbnail. 

“Nope,” John mutters, popping the ‘p’, “Didn’t think it was… Well…”

“Didn’t think it was real?” Arthur guesses. 

“Didn’t think it _worked.”_

“Hm.”

“Sorry,” John sighs, “Realize that was a… Strange thing to spring on you.”

“S’fine,” Arthur says honestly, “But I can’t really validate whether it do or don’t work.”

“I guess,” John mutters and unfolds his legs to switch arrows again, finally looking up at Arthur. 

“So, you like Abigail.”

“Yeah,” John says softly, “I mean, she _knows_ and she still likes me.”

“... Is there more to it than that?” Arthur asks hesitantly. 

“What?” John’s brows furrow and he stares up at Arthur, twisting the arrow in his hand. 

“You don’t just like her ‘cause she… _Knows,”_ Arthur says quietly. 

“No that’s not…” John sighs and sets the arrow down to rub at his face. 

“She’s nice.”

“Yeah,” John agrees weakly. 

“You… Uh… Hm,” Arthur rubs at his jaw lightly, “You been with anyone yet?”

“Not like I want…” John mutters and looks down at the sharpening stone in his lap. 

“How you mean?” 

John presses his lips together and shakes his head. 

“Alright,” Arthur says gently, “Not tryin’ to push you, just don’t want you to get hurt, neither.”

“I know,” John mutters, lowers his hands, and picks the arrow back up. 

\-- 

When Arthur retires that night he's greeted by John sitting cross-legged on his cot, wearing one of Arthur's old shirts and no pants.

John's hair is damp and lightly curling where it's been shoved behind the younger's ears.

John doesn't look up when Arthur comes in. 

"John?"

"Will you show me?" John whispers. 

Arthur studies the younger for a moment then turns to tie the canvas flaps shut. 

He moves to the corner and unloads his belts and weapons before coming to sit on the cot next to John.

"What do you wanna learn?" Arthur murmurs. 

"I don't… I've never minded the thought of bein' touched, but I ain't fond of touchin' myself," John whispers, "I don't know what's gon' work."

Arthur swallows thickly and rubs his palms over the tops of his pant legs before scooting to the edge.

"Lay down," Arthur says gently.

John glances up at him nervously then shuffles to lay down, head on Arthur's pillow.

Arthur turns around so that he can see John's face.

"You cold?" Arthur asks, looking at John's bare legs briefly before studying the younger's face.

John lightly shakes his head.

"You got…" Arthur clears his throat, "Anythin' on under that?" 

Another head shake. 

"Alright," Arthur whispers, "Can I touch you?"

A nod.

"Tell me ‘stop’ and I will," Arthur says seriously.

Before settling one hand on the thigh closest to him.

John tenses. 

Teeth digging into his lip as he watches Arthur intensely. 

Arthur gently digs his thumb into the meat of John’s thigh and strokes down towards the younger’s knee, squeezing lightly and rubbing in small circles. 

He hears John take a slow breath before the younger forces himself to relax, leg un-tensing under Arthur’s touch. 

Arthur lingers around John’s knee then gradually works his way back up, bringing one leg up onto the cot, bent knee against the outside of John’s leg. 

“You good?” Arthur murmurs when his fingers reach the edge of the borrowed shirt. 

John hums quietly. 

“You gotta tell me, out loud.”

“Yeah,” John whispers. 

“Alright,” Arthur says softly then pushes his fingers under the shirt, moving them up towards John’s hip. 

The younger squirms slightly and brings a hand up to cover his mouth, looking over Arthur’s shoulder instead of at the older man’s face. 

Arthur carefully keeps an eye on John's expression as he moves his fingers further under, feeling the crook of John's hip and thigh under his fingertips. 

He follows the crease outward, first, up onto the curve of John's hipbone.

Then follows the crease inward, coming to a stop on the slight soft spot low on John's belly.

Then down, through the thick patch of curls and over the outer edges of John's slit.

The younger makes a small noise then quickly stifles it, glancing at Arthur nervously. 

"S'alright," Arthur murmurs, moving his hand over to John's other thigh and lightly massaging the muscle there. 

John keeps eye contact for a moment then closes his eyes.

And spreads his legs slightly.

Arthur lets the back of his knuckles graze John's mound then dips his middle finger into the slit, stroking down until he catches on John's hole.

Surprised by the wetness he feels already.

"You normally get like this?" Arthur asks as he slowly presses his finger into John.

"Normally?" John echoes hoarsely. 

"When you… Well," Arthur presses his lips together in thought as he feels John clench around his finger, "When you think about this kinda thing?"

"... No," John whispers. 

"Can you tell you're squeezin’ down here?"

John presses his hand harder to his mouth and nods.

"Feel good or bad?" 

"Good," John murmurs against his palm, "Strange."

"When you said 'not like I want'..." Arthur curls his finger lightly inside John and strokes along the walls, "What'd you mean?"

"Meant… I ain't gotten further than kissin', touchin' over clothes."

"Oh," Arthur whispers sliding his finger out and tilting his hand to press the pad of his thumb against John’s clit. 

The younger gasps before it’s cut short by John muffling himself, brows furrowed. 

Arthur lightly brushes his thumb side-to-side over the bundle of nerves, watching John’s expression go through a series of emotions, scrunching up then smoothing only for his eyes to squeeze shut and the outer corners to crinkle. 

“Is this good?” Arthur asks quietly. 

“Yeah,” John says, voice thin. 

“Bring your hand down here.”

John opens one eye and tentatively moves the hand not covering his mouth down, holding it out to Arthur. 

Arthur uses his free hand to shape John’s, middle and ring together, thumb above those two. 

Arthur then mimics that position with the hand between John’s legs, slowly pushing his middle and ring fingers inside of John while his thumb stays over his clit. 

John squirms briefly glancing between his own hand and where Arthur’s shirt is obscuring the older man’s fingers playing with him. 

Arthur starts to circle around John’s clit and lightly squeezes the younger’s wrist. 

“Keep those fingers together,” Arthur murmurs, “Copy what you feel.”

John lets out a shaky breath and mimics the motion, lightly circling his thumb in the air, closing his eyes as he feels his face flushing in embarrassment. 

There’s a rising urge within him to call it off and tuck tail to his tent and pretend like this whole day never happened. 

Then Arthur’s fingers curl inside him and his hand involuntarily closes into a fist, a shaky noise escaping him. 

Arthur’s fingers gently pry his hand back into position. 

Before the fingers of his other hand curl again, dragging along the walls inside John. 

John’s arm trembles, supported by Arthur’s hand cupping the younger’s wrist as John copies the movement awkwardly. 

“Good,” Arthur murmurs, sounding further away. 

The fingers inside him start a steady, slow thrusting, out and then in and up, pressing into a tender spot inside John. 

John’s fingers falter when he tries to concentrate, breathing labored against his palm. 

Arthur’s fingers pull out and John’s eyes snap open, staring at the older man worriedly. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t-” John starts only to shushed by the older man. 

John swallows his words hard enough it feels like he might choke on his own tongue. 

“It’s fine,” Arthur says hoarsely, and John feels the older man’s finger tip drag up from under his hole to his clit. 

John squirms when he realizes that he can feel where his slick has dripped down over his ass, damp and cooling. 

John’s legs start to close in embarrassment, as he twists his hand to cover as much of his face as possible. 

“Sorry,” John chokes out when he feels Arthur’s hand leave him. 

He presses his thighs together tightly and makes the mistake of clenching around nothing, only to feel more slick dribbling out of his hole. 

“Why?” He hears Arthur asks gently. 

“S’a lot,” John whispers, “Your… Your shirt, the bed.”

“Hey,” Arthur murmurs and the hand around his wrist squeezes lightly, “It’s alright.”

“I don’t think…” John sniffs and takes a deep breath, “I ain’t gon’ be able to do this.”

“How you mean?” 

“I can’t… I can’t think,” John mutters and rubs at his eyes. 

“Do you wanna stop?” 

John moves his hand back down to his mouth, glancing down at himself then over to the tent flaps. 

He drops his hand from his face to grip the blanket on the cot, sitting up. 

“Can I get my clothes?” John whispers, nodding to the trunk his clothes are piled on top of as he moves to get off the cot. 

“Woah, Woah,” Arthur says, hand moving from John’s wrist to the younger’s ankle, “Just hold on.”

John stills and looks up at Arthur, unable to mask the misery in his expression. 

“It’s alright,” Arthur soothes, “Let me go get you somethin’ to clean up.”

“I’m… Fine,” John shakes his head.

“John…” Arthur starts but nothing follows for a moment, then the older man lets go, “I’m not gonna force you to stay, but I ain’t makin’ you walk across camp like this.”

John reaches up to tug at his hair, nervously running his fingers through it before shoving it behind his ears again. 

“Can I…” John trails off, “Will you…”

“What do you need, Johnny?” Arthur asks gently. 

John finally meets his eyes again for just a few seconds then tilts his head down, closing his eyes. 

“Keep goin’?” John asks shakily, “I’ll… Pay you back.”

“Don’t,” Arthur says quickly, “You don’t have to do anythin’. We can keep goin’. Do you want that?”

“... Yes,” John says timidly. 

Arthur studies the younger for a minute, unfamiliar with this version of John. 

Used to the headstrong, sharp bark and sharper bite John. 

He shifts on the cot, head tilting lightly as he gets an idea.

“Tell me what to do.”

“Arthur, I don’t know-”

“You know enough, you’ve pictured doing shit like this?” Arthur asks, “Tell me what you want me to do, and if it don’t work we’ll figure it out, alright?”

John looks up at him, gaze slowly moving over Arthur’s face. 

“What I want?” John asks quietly. 

“Yeah,” Arthur says firmly, “Whatever you want.”

John frowns in thought then scoots back slightly, folding the pillow behind himself as he reclines, a little more propped up than before. 

He bites his lip and slowly spreads his legs and bends his knees, letting them fall to the side, the air feeling cold against the damp heat between his thighs.

He looks up at Arthur and the older man raises a brow in question. 

“Touch me,” John says, a little more confident now that he holds control.

“How?” 

“My legs,” John murmurs, “And your fingers, in me.”

Arthur shifts further onto the cot until he’s sitting in front of John’s butterflied legs 

He settles a hand over the inner side of one of John's thighs as his other hand goes under the shirt hem until his knuckles meet slick coated skin.

He drags his fingers through the slick before sliding two back inside of John.

"Move them, like you were," John whispers.

Arthur squeezes the younger's thigh and twist his hand so his palm is facing up.

Curls his fingers slightly and starts pumping them in and out.

John makes a small, short sound and clenches around Arthur's fingers, wet squelching filling the tent.

"Christ," John mutters fingers twisting in the blanket underneath him.

"What else?" Arthur asks.

"Uh…" John hesitates looking up at Arthur and then closing his eyes, "Anythin'?"

"Near to."

"Y-You willin' to kiss me?" John asks, the softest whisper.

"Yeah," Arthur murmurs, and stills his fingers, a little amused, "I'm willin'."

John's eyes open again and he sits up slightly.

"Kiss me," John says, studying Arthur's face.

Arthur leans in and presses his lips lightly to John's cheek, making the younger snort a laugh.

John turns his head and grazes his lips against Arthur's before pulling back slightly, looking up at the older man expectantly. 

Arthur closes the gap and presses their mouths together, eyes falling shut as he lightly draws John's lower lip between his own.

The younger tilts his head and deepens the kiss, catching his teeth on Arthur's lip. 

Arthur shuffles closer and pushes his fingers deeper into John making the younger gasp against his mouth. 

Arthur moves his lips to John's cheek, pressing lightly again then resting his forehead against the younger's temple.

Arthur moves his other hand from John’s thigh to wrap around John’s hip, leveraging the younger so he can thrust his fingers up into John, encouraging John to lean into him. 

John chokes back a whimper and wraps his arms tightly around Arthur’s shoulders, tilting his head to the side as Arthur’s lips start to move down the side of his neck, feather light, until Arthur’s forehead is resting on John’s shoulder. 

Arthur lifts John up a little more, pushing his fingers in, then dragging them out slowly, feeling John’s walls clenching around them. 

Arthur lightly brushes his thumb over John’s clit again and the younger tenses sharply, curling into the older man. 

“Alright?” Arthur asks, a spark of worry in his gut. 

“Please?” John whispers, voice thin, weak, “Think- Think I’m…”

Arthur presses his thumb a little harder and pulls John sideways into his lap, keeping the younger’s legs spread and moves his hand faster, pumping his fingers in and out as John’s slick drips down his palm. 

John cries out softly and presses bodily against the older man, his hands going down to squeeze Arthur’s forearm, hips twitching, riding the older man’s hand. 

“Jesus,” Arthur whispers, dropping his head to rest on John’s shoulder, murmuring, “Easy... C'mon.”

John whimpers as Arthur’s fingers continue to press inside him, curled and angled just right and he tenses up, elbows locking as he presses down on Arthur’s arm, back arching and mouth falling open, quiet, stunted sounds escaping him as Arthur pushes him through another orgasm. 

The older man’s fingers slow after a few seconds and John hides his face in Arthur’s neck. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> w.a.p  
> same terminology + nub

Arthur’s fingers flex inside of him, and John can feel the older man’s cock, hard against his hip. 

“You still wanna know how to use your mouth?” Arthur asks quietly.

“I…” John swallows, throat sticking with how dry his mouth had gotten, “I don’t…”

“We don’t gotta,” Arthur whispers quickly, “You alright?” 

John slowly nods, reaches down between his legs, hesitating before grazing his fingertips through his slick, making a shaky sound. 

"Shh," Arthur swallows loudly by his ear, "What're you…?" 

"I don't know… Feel strange," John says weakly and wipes his fingers roughly on the shirt he's wearing before curling into Arthur's chest. 

"Bit drunk?" Arthur asks quietly, and hums when John nods, "It'll fade, give it a minute." 

"Alright," John says hoarsely. 

"I'll…" Arthur slowly pulls his fingers from John, making the younger squirm, duck his head at how soaked Arthur's hand is, "John, it's alright." 

John just makes an unsteady sound and presses his face more firmly against Arthur's neck. 

Then John's shifts, pointedly, rubbing his hip against Arthur's cock. 

"H-Hey…" Arthur manages, voice thick, "You don't gotta." 

"I'd let you… Inside me," John says quietly, "If you wanted."

"No. No. John," Arthur croaks and lifts the younger off him, setting him on the mattress gently, _"No."_

"... Alright," John whispers, his shoulders drawing up to his ears and Arthur can tell the younger's embarrassed. 

"Not that I don't… Not that there's anythin' _bad_ 'bout you," Arthur says slowly, "But I don't think you mean it." 

John slowly shrugs, pulls his legs closer to himself. 

"Are you alright?" Arthur whispers, "Was that too much?" 

"I wasn't thinkin' you'd… It was…" John swallows and shrugs again, "Just… I thought it would be harder."

Arthur laughs in shock then presses his lips together when John frowns at him. 

"Sorry but, no. I-" Arthur shakes his head and glances at his slick-coated hand, "You're uh… Sensitive." 

"Mm-hm."

"Generally considered a good thing," Arthur says, trying to sound reassuring, "You'd pro'ly come just from bein'-" 

Silence sits thick between them and John squirms lightly. 

"Yeah, sorry," Arthur mutters, "Lemme get you somethin' to clean-"

"What 'bout you?" John whispers. 

"... What 'bout me?" 

John meets his eyes then glances down at the obvious bulge in Arthur's pants. 

"I'm fine."

"I mean you're gonna… You goin' out there like that?" John asks uncertainly. 

"... Uh," Arthur mutters, "Shit."

"You could…" John presses his lips together and shrugs. 

“... Here?”

“I-” John huffs and covers his face, “Christ, Arthur, what are we doin’?”

“Foolish things.”

John snorts then swallows and looks up at Arthur through his lashes. 

“I wanna touch you,” John whispers, “I know that wasn’t the deal but- I-”

“... Not sure how much of a ‘deal’ there still is,” Arthur says hoarsely. 

“I’m sorry,” John rubs his hand across his mouth and lowers his gaze to the bed, “I didn’t… This feels like I’ve played you.”

“What?”

“Like… You… Arthur-” John says shakily, “You’re always tryin’ to help me, and protect me… And I don’t know why.”

“... I think you do.”

“I want…” John whispers, _“So much._ It feels selfish to ask.”

“Ask,” Arthur commands, voice thick and hoarse. 

“I wanna do everythin’, with you,” John mumbles, shifts his legs anxiously, “Want all my firsts with you.”

“... Abigail?”

“S’not the same,” John shakes his head and shifts to kneel, tugging Arthur’s shirt down to cover his crotch, “I like her… I want her, too, but it’s different.”

“How?”

“I- I trust you,” John says shakily, “And not that I think ill of her, but she… You’re _part_ of me. More than anyone.”

“... Shit,” Arthur mutters and shifts, hesitates, shifts again, crawls closer, nudging John into laying back as he covers the younger with himself, laying between John’s thighs, pressing his face into John’s neck, “Why’re you so…?”

“... What?” John whispers.

“I…” Arthur grunts and shifts, wrapping his arms under John, around the younger’s waist, “I can’t say no to you.”

“Do you want to?”

“I don’t,” Arthur mutters and closes his eyes tightly. 

“Can… Can you show me?” John asks quietly, tilting his head to give Arthur more room, bringing his hands up to Arthur’s upper arms, “How to get you off?”

“Jesus,” Arthur whispers and presses his face harder into John’s neck, “Close already, just _listenin_ ’ to you.”

John swallows loudly and Arthur exhales noisily through his nose. 

“Gimme a minute,” Arthur mutters and nuzzles into John, resting more of his weight on the younger, “Don’t wanna shoot off soon as you touch me.”

John huffs a weak laugh and squeezes Arthur’s arms before wrapping his own around the back of the older man’s shoulders. 

Just holding on for a moment as Arthur’s exhales warm the sensitive skin on his neck. 

“Just hands,” Arthur says quietly, “Alright?”

“If you want-”

“Not…” Arthur swallows hard again and slowly pulls out of John’s arms, sitting up to kneel between the younger’s legs, “Not _this_ time.”

John blinks up at him then slowly gets his hands under himself and sits up, keeping his legs spread on either side of Arthur’s. 

Arthur watches him for a moment then looks down at himself and John looks down as well. 

As Arthur slips the buttons of his trousers free and spreads the plackets apart. 

Doing the same to his drawers, then hesitating. 

Cock hanging hard and heavy as it’s freed and John knows he’s staring. 

“Still want to?” Arthur whispers and it’s the first time tonight he’s sounded actually _nervous_. 

John shuffles back until he’s flush to the headboard and looking up at Arthur, spreading his legs apart until they’re hanging off either side of the cot and he’s nearly in a straddle. 

Arthur makes a soft, shaky sound and lowers his hand to grip himself, pulling back the foreskin and John watches. 

The older man follows after him, until he’s kneeling close between John’s thighs, knees pressing the younger open. 

“Gimme your hand,” Arthur whispers. 

John holds it out readily. 

Arthur’s warmer hand encircles his, lifts it up-

Hesitates. 

“Gotta,” Arthur mutters, “Use spit or somethin’.”

John just watches with wide eyes, nods. 

Arthur’s face flushes violently and he leans down, spitting into John’s palm.

Then guides it to his cock, letting John’s fingertips brush over the head then folding the younger’s hand into fisting the thick of him. 

“Expected you to be smaller,” John says hoarsely, staring at the gap between his thumb and middle finger, not quite able to reach, “Dunno why.”

Arthur huffs and grimaces and shifts his hips and closes his eyes for a moment. 

Moves John’s hand down to his base and squeezes. 

“You can be… Pretty firm,” Arthur says roughly, “More sensitive up at the head, feels good if you play ‘round up there, yeah? Same as you.”

“Not quite,” John whispers but as Arthur lets go of his hand his brows furrow in concentration and he slowly strokes up Arthur’s cock, saliva easing the way. 

He flexes his fingers and re-grips under the head, pulling back the foreskin lightly and dragging his hand back down. 

Arthur makes a shaky noise and the older man leans forward, grabbing the headboard behind John’s shoulder to steady himself. 

“Lil’ tighter,” Arthur whispers. 

John squeezes his grip tighter at the base and pulls back up, keeping his middle fingers and thumb encircling Arthur’s cock up the entire length. 

When he gets to the head he thinks about Arthur’s fingers playing with him and rubs his thumb over the slit firmly. 

Arthur gasps and jerks forward in his hand and John stills in surprise. 

“Shit, John,” Arthur drops his head and clenches his jaw, hips shifting lightly. 

Barely rutting into the younger’s grip. 

“You ain’t done this?” Arthur asks hoarsely. 

“No?” John looks up at Arthur’s shadowed face, “Good?”

“Real good,” Arthur says and John watches gooseflesh form on the older man’s forearms as Arthur lightly shivers. 

“Oh.”

“You can… Do that, like you did, but squeeze a lil’ harder as you’re pullin’ up,” Arthur says and it’s shaky now. 

The older man’s whole frame feels shaky. 

John swallows and does as instructed but when he gets to the head and moves to rub his thumb over it, a clear drop beads up in the slit. 

It doesn’t look all that dissimilar from his own slick and he slowly smears it with the side of his thumb. 

Arthur turns his face into his upper arm and groans, muffled. 

John’s thighs flex and shift as he clenches around nothing, feels himself getting worked up again. 

“Is that… Seed?”

“No,” Arthur says hoarsely and his free hand clenches in the wrinkled fabric over his thigh, “Just means it feels good.”

“... Oh,” John murmurs, “You get slick too?”

“Sometimes,” Arthur exhales unsteadily and grits his teeth again as John repeats the movement and more pre-come dribbles out, starts dripping down John’s hand and the younger stares. 

“I… Know you said just hands,” John says slowly, “Both?”

“You can- Uh,” Arthur lets go of his pantleg and guides John’s other hand under his cock, into the warmth of his drawers, curling John’s fingers to cup the heft of his balls, “Go easier, don’t… Squeeze, ‘least not too hard.”

“What do I do then?”

“Just… Play with ‘em,” Arthur whispers weakly. 

John strokes with his right hand and tests the weight of Arthur’s balls in his hand, getting used to the coarse hair and the malleability. 

Pressing his fingertips up into the softness and inhaling sharply when Arthur’s cock jerks in his grip. 

Is leaking freely, dripping onto the sheets between John’s leg. 

“Shit-” John murmurs, just a little awed. 

“Feels good,” Arthur whispers and moves both his hands to the headboard, gripping tight, “So good, John.”

“... Close?”

“Yeah.”

“Should I just… Keep doin’ this?” John asks with a pointed roll of Arthur’s balls in his palm and the older man groans loudly, bites down on his lower lip harshly. 

Makes the smallest, whimpering sound as John milks out another heavy drop of pre-come and Arthur’s hips rock forward. 

Fucking himself into John’s grip. 

John swallows and looks down at the darkening puddle on the sheets that’s so close to the fabric covering his crotch. 

Then up, at Arthur’s face above him and the ruddy flush of it, the way Arthur’s eyes are clenched tight and he’s biting down so hard to keep himself quiet that the blood’s been forced out, paling his upper chin. 

“Arthur,” John whispers. 

“Mm?”

“You got a spot… Inside you, yeah?”

Arthur’s expression winds up tighter and he roughly nods. 

“... Can you show me, sometime?” John whispers. 

Arthur hums weakly then breaks off with a low whine, cock jerking harder, hips twitching forward. 

Balls drawing tight in John’s hand and he looks down, as Arthur’s cock jerks and that slippery, clear pre-come turns thick and cloudy. 

Pulsing out of the older man’s cock and onto the bed, John’s hand, arm, thigh, the shirt he stole from Arthur. 

And the older man’s breathing is labored, through his nose, as he desperately keeps himself quiet, biting back any noises and curling in on himself.

His hands moving down to squeeze John’s shoulders as the younger continues to stroke him through it. 

“Fuck,” Arthur mutters and opens his eyes, bright blue shining vivid around wide pupils, “Ease up.”

John loosens his grip and pulls his hands back to himself and looks down at the mess between them, on him. 

On his thumb. 

“Is… Is it weird if I taste it?” John asks weakly and his hips shift involuntarily as his nub throbs and he’s actually tempted, for once, to reach between his own thighs and force some relief. 

John’s not sure he’s ever been this worked up before. 

“S’fine,” Arthur whispers and slowly sits back on his heels, arms hanging loose at his sides, “Jesus.”

John looks up at him then back at his hand and slowly brings it closer, sticking his tongue out and dragging it up to catch a bead running down his wrist. 

He makes a small face at the initial taste then his expression mellows, and he looks at his hand again. 

Arthur huffs softly, watching him. 

“Happy?”

John frowns lightly and lowers his hands to hover in front of his lap, not wanting to make more of a mess. 

“Seriously,” Arthur whispers, “S’alright.”

“It’s not bad,” John says slowly, “Dunno.”

“Different when it’s goin’ down your throat,” Arthur mutters as he sits back a bit heavier, sitting on his ass and letting his legs splay to one side. 

John shifts and rocks his hips forward, just a bit, seeking friction that isn’t there. 

He sees Arthur notice the movement, feels his ears burning. 

“You… You got off on that?” Arthur asks hoarsely. 

“Yeah,” John mutters, “No different than you.”

“Shit,” Arthur whispers, “You could go again?”

John’s quiet, looking down at his hands and Arthur’s slick, softening cock, and the fabric barely concealing his slit. 

“You seemed kinda… You seemed a bit surprised,” John whispers, “Earlier, ‘bout how wet I got.”

“You said it wasn’t normal for you.”

“S’not,” John says shakily, “Think it’s _you_ , think it’s thinkin’ ‘bout _you.”_

“Yeah?” Arthur whispers and it’s a bit teasing and John flusters. 

“Can… Can you-” John whispers, getting quieter, guiltier, “Please?”

Arthur’s still for a moment then moves his legs up in front of him, cross-legged

“You wanna _think_ , right now?”

“No.”

“C’mere,” Arthur says gently and beckons John as he sits back. 

Guides John into his lap. 

“Fuck, fuck, oh Christ,” John whispers and shies, as he settles on Arthur and the older man’s soft cock is pressed against his ass, “Arthur-”

“Shh,” Arthur’s hands squeeze his hips and he shifts John more to one thigh, moving his fingers to drag through the younger’s slit and cursing as slick strings between his hand and John’s soaked hole, “Good God, John.”

“S’too much,” John whispers. 

“No it’s… Fuck,” Arthur mutters, “Jesus, John, you’re _perfect.”_

“What?” John asks shakily and squirms when two, then three fingers slip easily inside of him. 

“You’re…” Arthur whispers and ducks his head to the side slightly, “Just thinkin’ ‘bout bein’ inside you, fuckin’ you… Feelin’ you all hot and soakin’... Feelin’ you squeeze down like this?”

Arthur curls his fingers and strokes along John’s walls, gets the younger to clamp down on his fingers and John lets slip a soft, short whine. 

“Gettin’ you to come ‘round me?” Arthur swallows as his cock gives a feeble twitch, “Fillin’ you up, while you’re shakin’ and clenchin’?”

John makes another weak sound and grips at Arthur’s shoulders as the older man starts to fuck the fingers into him. 

He though it was obscene, before, but now aside from the _sound_ of just how soaked he is he can feel slick slopping out of himself, getting all over Arthur’s hand, dripping onto the sheets. 

He leans into the older man, breathing unsteady, lips parted. 

And he can’t seem to get his eyes to focus so he closes them tight and presses his face into Arthur’s shoulder. 

“Want-” John whispers weakly, “All that. All of you.”

“Yeah, me too, Darlin’,” Arthur murmurs and his thumb rubs up the side of John’s clit roughly and John tenses and clenches and his toes curl. 

And he whimpers and begs as he muffles himself against Arthur’s shirt and comes. 


End file.
